Alpaca Crack

Went to New Mexico for my birthday. It was a mixed bag emotionally, we put Naughtius down the morning I left, and his memory carried over through the trip.

People in New Mexico freeze when I am not there..in my reality anyways. It always takes a while to let time catch up from when I last left.

Jadira is amazing. I can not believe the beautiful and wise woman she is becoming. I met her boyfriends children and they were cool kids.

Cippers is in college, and doesn't live at home any more. This was the hardest part to adapt to this trip. Jadira has always been an independent spirit, Cippers has always been glued to my side. We would stay up late at night in her room and talk about creepy things, or watch movies, then curl up and go to sleep.

Mom's house is built on an old Catholic cemetery and there is an even older Native American pueblo underneath that. To say her house gives you the willies sometimes is an understatement.

Now...doing what I do, this is normally not a big deal..but I miss having my sidekick to adventure in the nether realms with...and doing banishings at 3 a.m. with. Life changes, people grow.

Cippers did decide to stay at mom's a few of the nights. We decided to look at LOL cats for a good giggle. At one point, Cippers jaw dropped as she was staring at the wall across from the computer and she said "What the hell is that?!"

Normally, I would expect to turn around and see something with either glowing red eyes or a misty nebulous malevolent shape in the corner (this is my mom's house after all!) Instead, I see a REALLY HUGE ugly as sin bug hanging out on the wall.

We crept closer. The thing had, I swear, at least 20 pairs of legs, all arched like spiders legs. No visible head, a flat body, and 2 long sweeping antennae. I have never seen a more thoroughly disgusting bug in my entire life.

Cippers told me to smack it with something..and this is where my dirty secret came out. I am mortally afraid of big bugs. Mortally. I told her I would do no such thing. We looked for somethign for her to smack it with, when the thought occurred to me...what if this is a member of the centipede family? It did have an awful lot of legs after all. I told her to go get her dad.

My step dad Jerry is a very patient soul, who would do anything for the daughters he adores. He came up to her room, sleepy eyed with a plastic cup. He would not kill the bug, just re-locate it. It's just who he is and part of why he is so awesome.

He attempted to trap the bug just as it scurried to a corner, and the cup knocked it to the floor.

We searched EVERYTHING in her room and never found it. I didn't sleep well the rest of the week.

We did get on the internet again though to see if we could figure out what the heinous thing was..and here it is:

I would only wish an encounter with this thing on my worst enemies.

Halloween night we went to Jadira's to decorate cavaleras. After making them the night before, I could barely stand to smell them, or the frosting. They were fun to decorate though. Apparently the Aztec used to eat them in honor of the dead. There is enough sugar in one of these babies that I would probably most certainly be dead if I ate one. Mom gave me some souvenier Day of the Dead buttons too.

I had dinner at my dad's. My step mom made a turkey dinner since everyone would be gone for Thanksgiving. Strike that..she had the turkey made, along with the trimmings. It was pretty tasty. It was nice to have everyone together. Dad showed me the work he has been doing since retirement...a bathroom fit for the 1st class on the Titanic, and a stair case he laid himself, indcluding the walnut trim he made from a felled tree. Now I know where I get my urges to do things like grow flax from seed and turn it in to linen fabric. Got some nifty things as presents, including a set of square dpns to try out.

My sister Jadira set aside some spending money for me. She knows how broke we have been with me on disability and the medical bills piling up. I am amazed at her generosity and spirit. I have some cash burning a hole in my pocket so of course I had to go to Village Wools. If you are ever in Albuquerque, stop in and see them...some of the best yarns, spinning fibers and everythign in between. They have extremely fair prices and the women that work there know a lot about anything to do with yarn and fiber. I had a wonderful chat with one of the spinners who works there about hand combs, and some new fleeces they had in stock.

I ended up buying about 4.5 oz white kid mohair, a flax strick, and some dyed Colonial top..gorgeous colors from blues, greens, burgundies and a trace of yellow. Very soft.

While I was shopping around, mom bought me a birthday present; In Sheep's Clothing. This is THE book on fleece buying, and it contains a whopping amount of useful information. Mom said it didn't look all that interesting. Not so...these pages are worth gold to me. Thanks mom!

The rest of the week was spent mostly gambling, eating a LOT of chile, drinking a LOT of coffee (it helps when your little sister works in the coolest coffee joint in town) and I tried to teach my mom's school kids some NLP stuff. Morning kids were great and totally got in to it. I walked out on the afternoon kids because they were being little assholes.

My mom and company celebrated my birthday on Thursday. Jadira and Joseph baked me the MOST awesome cake from scratch..even the frosting. Seriously..I can still taste it and it was divine. The not so much a kid anymore Jadira amazed me yet again.

We had planned to go to Las Vegas (New Mexico, not Nevada) at the end of the week. I hadn't seen my brother's house, and there were some cool sites in town and just outside of it..including a weaving shop and New Mexico's largest Alpaca ranch.

It seems everyone in the town knows my brother. He is the Director of Communications for Highlands University. He is also a kick ass photographer and journalist. He had done some favors for the manager of the Plaza Hotel, and we got our room free because of it. When we checked in, the manager said he was upgrading us a premium suite. Mom asked why, and he responded "Because I can."

We were in for a treat...the room was luxurious in all of it's victorian glory. And bonus..the hotel was rumored to be haunted. The manager took us to the room that the activity centers around, and said that they have women guests fleeing from that room with their suitcases, in naught more than their night gowns.

Our room was great, in the picture, it is the upper left 3 windows. The room looked out over the plaza and shopping area, and had it's own separate sitting room, fridge and microwave, and 14 foot ceilings. The majority of the hotel is furnished in antique furniture and has a wonderful ambience. We settled our stuff in and decided to walk the plaza before dinner.

Most of Las Vegas closes before 6 p.m., so I was happily suprised that the weaving shop was still open. If you ever pass through, I highly recommend stopping in for a visit. Tapetes De Lana carries just about every size of loom, a decent supply of locally produced spinning fibers, hand woven stuff for sale and yarn. The back of the store is a pastry counter and coffe shop. I noticed some bags of fleece on the floor and decided to chat with the woman standing there about them.

She was running a work shop on spinning/weaving and the fleeces were for demontstration. I asked if she was willing to sell and she was.

After rummaging through several bags of excellent quality wool, I found THE bag...an entire fleece of suri alpaca.

She said she knew it was worth more than regular alpaca, and told me to make an offer. I suck at this. I went back to the coffee shop where my mom and brother were sitting and hemmed and hawed over it. My mom clinched the deal by offering the woman a check for the entire fleece on the spot, and it was accepted...at a steal. Hooray fleece!

The next morning, my brother took the top off his jeep and we drove out to Mora. Now, I grew up in New Mexico, and am used to the stunning views that you can only see there. I have never seen the road to Mora, and it is one of the most stunning and beautiful drives in northern New Mexico. Sometimes it really is better to take the road less traveled.

We stopped at a church for my mom. My brother had photographed this church for his recent art opening in Las Vegas. There was a graveyard nearby as well. Unfortunatley it was locked and we couldn't explore. It looked pretty old though, and I was bummed that I couldn't get in to see closer.

We finally arrived at our destination. Victory Ranch Alpaca farm. If you like spinning alpaca, or knitting/crocheting/weaving with alpaca yarn, this place is heaven. The store has a HUGE selection of yarns, rovings, clothing, blankets..you name it..all made out of buttery soft alpaca. They also had some decently priced fat skeins of buffalo yarn, and camel down yarn made from the camels at the Albuquerque zoo.

As we were wandering through, the woman in the shop told us we could feed the alpacas for $3. Deal! I signed up to feed them. Sean came along to take pictures, mom opted to stay on the front porch of the store and snooze in the warm autumn sun coming over the mountains.

I have seen alpacas behind fences before....but I have never been in the middle of a herd of them. As our guide walked us out to the enclosure, the alpacas seemed to alert to the big red coffee can he was holding.

As far as I can tell to this day, that coffee can contained alpaca crack....and these guys were jonesing for a fix of it. The minute we stepped through the gate, we were swarmed by some rather pushy alpacas. He had a coffee can full, I had a small plastic cup full. Apparently alpacas don't reason all that well..they left the guy with the big coffee can full of crack and swarmed around the obvious new girl with a tiny little cup of the stuff.

Alpacas don't have upper teeth, just a few on the bottom. You don't have to feed them flat palmed like you would a horse. Their upper lip is split, and they use the 2 halves like dexterous little fingers to scoop the food/ crack out of your hand. If you put your palm face up, and take the first 2 fingers of your other hand and make a runninig motion with your fingers on top of your palm, you will get a good idea of what it feels like to feed them minus the fuzzy whiskers. Pretty cool.

I did panick a bit when they all started crowding in. They are very gentle animals, and pretty small..but even small animals can do heinous things when in large numbers. I was to find out how true this was later. I hope I never meet an irritated alpaca ever again.

I was happy that my brother had experience interviewing people for news stories. He kept the guide yakking and answering questions while I happily fed the alpacas and retreated in to my own anti-social little world. They made cute little grunting noises as they were crowding in for the food..the closest thing I can think to describe it is like one of those dog toys with the farting sound rather than the squeaker, but more extended. They have enormous bambi like eyes, and will look at you with wide unblinking innocence. It's a lie I tell you. Some of them are malicious spiteful beings..just waiting for their opening.

One alpaca was being a bit more pushy than the others. She was beautiful, brown and white pied and a bit bigger than all the others. If I walked over to feed a different group, she followed and edged her way in. She even edged in when I was feeding the blind alpaca. It felt a bit like being stalked, and I would turn around each time she butted in and say "Oh, its YOU again. Apparently she found my comments rude after a while and decided she was going to show me a taste of alpaca vengence. As I was turning away to fill my hand up with more alpaca crack, I heard what sounded like a sneeze, followed by shrapnel and the most FOUL smell I have ever smelled.

Now, those who know me know I have a stomach of steel. I watch autopsy shows while eating, the foulest smells from infected wounds doesn't bother me. I have been puked on, peed on, pooped on by humans and animals. I thought myself impervious to grossing out and barfing, but that is exactly what I wanted to do right now.

The guide laughed and told me that was a "warning shot". If she had really wanted to show me, I would have been covered in thick goo as well as the shrapnel from unchewed alpaca crack.

I would have rather been within 2 feet of a spraying skunk than ever smell this again. It is truly the most foul thing I have ever experienced. I was a little more careful about turning away after that, as apparently that is what set off the spitting explosion.

We finished up and got back in the jeep to get some lunch. The smell of alpaca spit kept wafting through, and I was glad the top of the jeep was off or we all most certainly would have perished from the stink. As we were driving to the restaurant, I even found shrapnel in my hair and glasses.

We get in to the restaurant and I am starving but don't want to eat at the same time. Apparently mom and Sean can't smell it as much, but I am bathed in it. And it smells..did I mention that? The lunch was good, inspite of my smelly misery. For the rest of that day, evening and up to 2 showers later, the smell of alpaca spit would haunt me. We loaded back in to the jeep and headed back to Las Vegas. The ride back was freezing cold. We were all pretty numb by the time we got back to my brothers house. Mom and I got back in our car and drove back to Albuquerque, heater cranked up.

It was a wonderful trip, much needed after the stress of the last few months. It is always good to come home again. Jace had baked me a suprise cake that said "welcome home" (he figured I had enough of the "happy birthday" variety, and had rented a movie for us to watch. The house is quite a bit sadder without Max in it, and I can definitely see the loss on Rosie's face. We will have some time to hang out together while I spin up all my fiber finds from New Mexico and work through our sorrows on some nice long walks through the park. Speaking of which, it is time to do that now. I will be posting pictures of my spinning on a future blog.

Farewell, my friend

You have been gone a week now. I have dreamed about you every night since that sunny morning, and although I may not have showed it outwardly, I have cried frequently inwardly at the thought of you. I am sitting here on the couch with your best friend, and I can see your loss in her eyes too. In my dreams, I can still see the liquid brown of your eyes, intently watching my every move to see if you might be needed at my side. I can see my tears glistening on your silky black fur, or feel my fingers stroking your butter soft ears. If I lay quitely on my back, I can almost feel you sneaknig up in the bed next to me, and the two of us falling asleep again in perfect moment comfort and bliss.

I remember the first time I saw you. My husband and I searched Dumb Friends up and down for a black lab. I wanted a husky or a malamute. He wanted a black lab. We looked at several. ... few we liked and they got adopted out from under us. We decided to try another day.

As we were leaving, there was a picture of you on the counter, grinning, eyes sparkling, and tongue hanging out. You had been there for 5 months.

We walked back down the rows of pleading eyes and mournful howls to look at you. You were standing high up in the enclosure, not barking at the people that were walking by, but at the people behind the scenes.

We took you back in to a room to see if you were the one for us, and it was the first time of many I would see your greeting gesture, head low, grinning from ear to ear and tail wagging in wide furious sweeps behind you.

We put you in the car and took you home. I watched you stick your head out the window and taste the wind, ears flapping behind you. I got the feeling it was the first time you had that experience. Later I read in the adoption papers that you spent your years tied to a tree and they gave you up because you "weren't much fun."

We took you to Wash park to meet my brother that night. The air was chilly and as we stood under a lamp, I admired the glossy black of your fur, and the excitement and joy in your eyes.


I remember our long walks through Chatfield resevoir. You ran and played like you were making up for lost time. The memory of walking through that grove of trees in the snow, under a gray sky when the world was silent is still clear in my mind. You had trotted up ahead in search of good smells and territory to mark, and I followed at my own pace taking in the metallic smell of snow in the air and the crunch of it under my feet. I glanced up to see where you were, and you turned around and looked at the same time. You bounded back to me at top speed, and did a happy dance around me, tossing up chunks of snow and steaming up the air around us with your panting. It was one of those moments of perfect joy, communicated clearly between 2 species.

My heart still cringes to remember the first time we almost lost you. It was one of our snow walks through the resevoir. I saw you trot up over a hill and then heard your howls of panic. I raced over the hill and my heart sunk out of my chest when I saw that you had gone out on the thin ice of the pond and fallen through. I watched in helpless panic as you struggled to get a purchase on the ice, and repeatedly lost it and slid under the water. I remember the panic in your eyes. A woman saw us and told me to go around the pond where the ice was thinner. It seemed to take an eternity to get you back to the shore with me. You would scramble at the ice, it would break and you would go under again. Each time I was terrified that your head wouldn't pop back up again. You finally made it and we ran to the car. I bundled you in a blanket and raced you home. I was in anguish all day over it. You curled up on the couch and slept snuggled up next to me, your near death seemingly forgotten and replaced by the thought of being on a soft couch next to your people.


I remember the pissing contest you had with Jace. We had just come home for the evening, and he left the bathroom door open after he ran in to relieve himself. You pulled up along side him and started whizzing on the floor in time with him, looking up at him with a doofy somewhat proud grin on your face. We laughed so hard we cried.

He also fed you a bean burrito...I remember the embarrassed look on your face when I came home to small piles of what looked exactly like bean burrito on the rug. I never ate one again by the way.

You went with me everywhere you could. You made my heart happy with your antics and quiet evenings curled up together.

Then came the second time we almost lost you. You stopped eating, and lost all of that glossy black fur. You got weaker and weaker. The vet kept telling us to change your diet, give you this and that antibiotic. Shortly afterwards you couldn't stand up anymore, and a friend and I had to carry you to my car to take you to a different vet. You had Addison's disease. I went to see you every day in dog ICU and tried to tell you when you got better you could leave that wire cage and come home again. Now we both took medication every day and shots. I could tell when you weren't feeling good, and when the disease took the gusto out of you, and you seemed to know when I was going through the same thing. We would lay on the bed and stare at the wall or out the window..to tired to think about doing anything else. I remember how hard you struggled to still wag your tail or lick my face, even though you were so sick you could only lay on the floor.

We taught you to swim, which after the ice incident was nothing short of miraculous. We would throw your tennis ball in shallow water working deeper until you had to swim to get it. Jace had to get in the water to lure you in and you would stand on the shore and howl and whine and carry on until people came to see what was wrong. The first time you actually swam, you looked panicked as all hell and flapped your paws above the water like you were trying to levitate. Jace and I stood on the shore and whooped and laughed, jumping up and down we were so proud of you. You got back to the shore with your ball, tail wagging in that familiar happy wide sweep. We couldn't keep you out of the water after that.
And there was that winter before we moved, when we got 4 feet of snow. We let you out to see it, and all we could see was the tip of your tail bouncing over the edge of the snow banks as you sniffed your way around the huge banks of cold. Nothing seemed to phase you or bother you, every experience was something that must be investigated and enjoyed thoroughly.

We bought a house and brought you to it. You thought the dog door was a cool game and I remember the look of excitement on your face that came with the realization that you could get out in the yard at any time. It was like the house was built just for the 3 of us.

We decided after buying a house, that we had room for a friend for you, and that's how Rosie came in to our life. We had so much fun together, and you grew to love each other in your own ways.

We went camping with my brother a few summers ago. You played fetch at high altitude (we didn't know how high up we were at the time, but we all ran out of breath easily on that trip).I took you down to the lake to try and catch some fish for dinner, but had to take you back to the camp because you kept chasing the lure in to the lake. We didn't catch any fish that day. That night we all ate peanut butter pretzels and steak, which you thought was a pretty good meal.

We didn't have a tent so the 3 of us curled up in my car to sleep. You guys seemed kind of baffled at first, but soon the car was filled with all of us snoozing. The next morning, I woke up first, and you two opened your eyes when I moved around. I watched with a smile as the realization dawned on both of you that we had slept at "the park" and we were still there. You both jumped up and couldn't wait to get out of the car and go sniff around some more.

As we drove back down the mountain, I saw your face in my rear view mirror, grinning like you were getting a good butt scratch. I realized you did indeed have your butt sticking out the back window, in the wind. I laughed so hard I had trouble steering.

I can't count the memories of our walks and adventures together. We all watched leaves turn in the fall, and felt them crunch under our feet, padded through snow and chased snowballs, watched for the first green of spring and swam through the summer. You taught me to live in the moment and to be more aware of my surroundings.

I would cook you dinners when Jace was at band practice. The 3 of us would munch on salmon, you guys got berries with yours. Then we would all curl up on the couch together until he came home.

When I think of you, I think of love...unconditional and pure, through thick and thin, good days and bad. In the worst of times you were quietly there for me, and would let me cry in to your fur. When I was done, you would thump your tail and gently lick the tears from my face. There were times I would look in to your eyes and it seemed you knew my soul.

A few years ago, you started sneaking up in the bed on weekend mornings. You would stretch alongside me and put your head on my chest, and we would fall back asleep, warm and happy. When you felt me wake up your tail would thump happily on the bed, and we would all get up and start the day.

The third time we weren't so lucky. It is so recent it is hard to type out, but I promised to write a tribute to you, preserve your memory in any way I can. A few weeks ago, I got up to the kitchen. I expected to hear your paws clicking behind me just in case there was food involved. You followed me everywhere. I turned around and you were standing in the living room, tail down, sorrowful look on your face. I came back over to you and you collapsed on the floor.

I hoped it was just your Addison's, but my gut said something different. I wrapped you in a blanket and laid on the floor next to you until Jace could come home to get you to the vet. I could not conceive of losing you, and not seeing those brown eyes in the morning, or hear your thumping tail.

The vet couldn't tell us what was wrong. You were anemic and dehydrated. It wasn't your Addisnon's disease.

We had to bring you back for an ultra sound, and that's when we got the bad news. You had a tumor in your stomach slowly bleeding. The vet said you probably had about 3 days left, before it opened fully and you bled to death. She said to do the things you loved, and let you have a cheeseburger maybe.

We decided to take you to the park. It was such a beautiful fall day and it was your favorite place to be. You and Rosie trotted along happily and played and swam as if there weren't a ticking time bomb in your belly, waiting to take you away from us. Jace and I followed, holding hands and crying over a future you weren't aware of.

I thought we were going to lose you that night. You laid on the couch barely able to move. Even then, as I cried in to your fur yet again, you tried to comfort me, licking my face and thumping your tail weakly. I held you close and you made such a huge effort to lift your head up to look in to my eyes.

We didn't lose you that night. I let you sleep in the bed all night with us. I was afraid to go to sleep, worried that I would wake up and you would be gone. You stopped breathing a few times and I held my own breath. I didn't want you to suffer but I didn't want you to leave either.

The next morning you got up as though nothing had happened. Your tail wagged and your eyes sparkled. We fed you anything you begged for...pop tarts, cheeseburgers, macaroni and fish. We used to joke about how dramatically you would beg for our food. Your eyes would dilate, your ears would perk forward and you would hold perfectly still with only an occassional string of drool. We used to joke that you were saying "If only I could have a bit of that (insert food) before I died, I would be a happy dog." How cursedly real that was now. I was glad that I got the chance to give you a bite of everything you wanted in those last days. You even had waffles. I joked again at one point, that you had never had chocolate cake. Jace and I agreed that when the time came, you would get a piece of it to have something good to go out with.

3 Days passed and you were still going strong. We went to the park, and you two went everywhere with me.

Every extra day with you was a blessing..a day I thought we wouldn't get. At night you would curl up with me in the bed, and the days were spent humoring your whims.
I had planned to go to New Mexico for my birthday. I worried that you would leave while I was gone. I struggled over whether or not to go.

The night before I was supposed to leave, you followed me around as I packed, tail wagging and happily snacking every time I passed the kitchen cupboard. Then around 10, you were standing in the living room with you tail down, and that sad look in your eyes. Part of me hoped it was just temporary, and you would rally like you did before. The look in your eyes said otherwise this time. I tried to give you a spoon of peanut butter with your medication, and you didn't even want to eat it. My heart sank.

We helped you upstairs, and Jace helped you get on the bed. He slept in the guest room that night, so we could have a last cuddle comfortably on the bed. I held you close to me and felt you struggle, your breathing becoming ragged then even as you dozed in and out of sleep.

At some point, I had fallen asleep myself, and was woken suddenly. I opened my eyes and in the darkness saw you had lifted your head off the bed, and were staring intently at my face. We lay there for a few minutes looking at each other. I was trying to etch the lines of your face in to my mind forever. It almost seemed you were doing the same. I cried quietly, and you again licked the tears away. We slept lightly, you head curled in to my neck and I could feel your breath in my ear.

I did not want you to suffer. I told you that, and that if you needed to go, it was ok. I wanted to remember you as my happy goober head, vibrant and full of life, head low in that greeting you gave only me. I dreaded the morning, because I knew in order to keep you from suffering, we would have to put you to sleep.

Jace came back home from work. you thumped your tail at him, and his eyes watered up as he pulled out a package of chocolate zingers. He remembered our promise to let you have chocolate cake before you died. You had refused everything up to that point, peanut butter, cheese, water..but your head lifted up off the bed and your tail kept thumping as you gobbled down the zinger.

You were too weak to even stand and he carried you down the stairs. We knew it was your time when you didn't even fuss at him for picking you up.

I sat in the back seat as we drove slowly to the vet. You showed your strength and lust for life one more time, struggling to lift yourself up to sit so you could see out of the window. I watched your nostrils twitch to take in all the smells, and watched the wind ruffle your fur and flap your ears for the last time.

We held you on a couch as the vet put you to sleep. Your favorite place to be at home..on the couch touching both of us.

I had an extra week with you I thought I wouldn't get, and now I am holding your empty collar wondering if I can ever love a being that much again.

I cried on the plane all the way to New Mexico. The stewardess gave me a whole can of diet sprite instead of just one cup, and another stewardess gave me a few bags of peanuts instead of one. I figured it was your spirit working on my behalf to get a little bit of extra food.

I thought about you all week, and told everyone my memories of you. You showed up in my dreams almost every night.

I came home last night. Rosie greeted me in the car happily, but I could see sorrow in her eyes, and lonliness. She never knew our home without you in it.

When I crawled in to bed last night, it still smelled like you, and there were little black hairs all over the sheets. It seems to much to bear right now...the thought of your tail not thumping in greeting in the morning.

I had a very vivid dream of you last night. You and Rosie came in through the dog door in to the living room. I was overjoyed to see you again and your dying in my dream just seemed like a bad dream. I called out to Jace "Max is back!" and touched your soft face again, and scratched your ears. In my dream Rosie's face was happy again, and your face was full of that benevolent love I was so used to seeing. I woke up and realized you were still indeed gone, but for a moment in that dream your ears were warm beneath my fingers and I got to look in to your eyes one more time.
I cried myself back to sleep.

This morning Rosie and I cuddled on the bed after Jace went to work. We lay there after I woke up and looked in to each others eyes for a few minutes. I can tell she misses you. She didn't want to get out of bed this morning, and her head hangs low as she walks around the house.
I made us oatmeal, and cried as I picked up one dog bowl instead of 2. Rosie ate hers and came back out to the living room. She doesn't have you to try and sneak food from anymore.

I guess the point of all of this is to express how much I loved you. A blog post can't hold all of the memories I have of you, or how you got me through some of the roughest and sad times of my life, or how happy our time together was. I am sure after the pain turns in to acceptance, I will have more memories of you that can't surface now.

I told you almost every day and I still feel it now...you were the bestest boy ever, my snuggle butt, my old man, my goober head, admiral melodrama, thumpy tail, my love, my Naughtius Maximus.